The Visitor
by Angel-of-the-silence
Summary: I all honesty, more of a Young Indy story. Set during his college years, actually, his senior year. Told from a female perspective.


The fifteenth of May, the hottest night of 1921 so far. I was sitting in front of my mirror, studying my reflection, pondering my Germanic heritage. Brushing my mousy brown hair, I wished for the thousandth time to have blonde hair or blue eyes. Anything to make me stand out from the rest of my family. I wanted to look more like I was the first generation to get an education, more all-American. Crawling under the covers, I hung my robe from the bedpost so I would have it in the morning. I said my prayers and closed my eyes, dozing fitfully and only for a short time.

Balmy night air flowed through my open window, doing little to relieve the heat in my room. Unable to stand it a minute longer, I tore off my nightgown and flung it across the room. I lay down and pulled the sheet around me. Finally, sleep came.

Around one in the morning, I was awakened by loud banging, feet running, and girls screaming. Before I could make any sense of it, my door crashed open and slammed shut. A boxer-clad man paused for an instant to adjust to the low light, then rushed head-long at my open window, throwing a heap of something at the floor. As he lunged for my screen, I recognized him.

"Henry Jones?" It came out more laughter than reproach. He froze in the light from my window. Turning, he crossed quickly to me, climbed over me, and jumped under my covers. I pulled the sheets to my chin and scooted away from him.

"Miss Schmidt! Hide me! I've got Dame Clarke on my ass, and she'll kill us both if she finds me in here!" I grabbed my robe and bolted to the window, kicking a pile of clothes out of my way. Using my elbow to bash the screen out of its frame, I wondered what to do about the clothes. After six hits, the screen dropped out of the window. It sighed through the air and hit the ground a story-and-a-half below with a 'tink'. I stuck my head out to see where it landed; I'd probably be the one to have to replace it. I gathered the clothing and rammed it into the nearest drawer.

I had just returned to the window when, for the second time that night, my door flew open. I bashed my head on the empty frame trying to get back into my room. Old Mrs. Clarke stood in my doorway, panting like a bull and probably just as mad.

"Where is he?" She shouted. The old woman frightened me more that anyone on earth, and now was no exception.

"He just went out the window!" I clicked on the lamp near my window and resumed peering into the night.

"Who was it? I just know it was that Jones boy! He and that Ness kid have been terrorizing girls' halls all over campus!" She still sounded winded.

"I have no idea," I turned to her again; "it was too dark in here for me to see him clearly. I think he might have been shorter, with dark hair. It kind of looked like maybe Clyde Walters, and he had a tattoo," I added the last bit in a scandalous tone of voice. I finished up with, "He was gone so fast I couldn't tell who he was for sure." The matron whirled and began to head for the door.

"I'm going to go catch them, I have no doubt those boys were responsible for this… I'll make sure Dr. Jones Sr. hears about this! Lock your door as soon as I leave, who knows what would have happened if I had not spotted them," with that she left, pulling the door closed behind her. Obligingly, I locked the door as soon as she'd left. I went and sat on my bed.

After a few minutes, my covers stirred.

"Is she gone?" a voice whispered.

"Yes, Mr. Jones, she's gone. I sent her on a wild goose chase." I whispered back. His head peeked out from between my sheets. He was adorable; I'd never had the occasion to talk to him up close before. Glasses twinkled from the end of his nose, and he scrunched them higher.

"Most people call me Indy."

"In that case, call me Libby, short for Elizabeth. Is Indy short for something?"

"Indiana. It helps me distinguish myself from my father. Anyway, thanks for hiding me, that old broad would have put a load of buckshot in my shorts if she'd caught me." He smiled. It was a nice smile, warm and inviting. His smile made him even more handsome. We sat there for a minute.

"Well, I'd better get going," He whispered and began trying to extract himself from my bedding. I put a hand on his chest, softly.

"Maybe you'd better just sit tight for a few more minutes, that crazy old hag is probably snooping around in the bushes out there waiting for you." I thought it was a valid concern, and it kept him here, talking to me. Suddenly I realized that my hand was still resting on his chest, his very _bare_ chest. I could feel his heart beating, smell his cologne, and see that his eyes were a beautiful grey-green. Pulling away, I went to the window and opened a second one. I turned off my lamp and returned to sit on the edge of my bed.

"Aren't you hot?" He asked as he kicked free of my comforter. Of course I was hot, this robe was stifling me.

"It's not too bad." I shrugged, feeling sweat begin to bead and roll down my sides and back.

"I think you should just stay the night, and I'll let you out once Clarke's cooled off." I began to scoot off the bed. Grabbing my wrist, he stopped me.

"Don't go. I'll sleep on the floor… after all, I'm the one who barged in and ruined your night." I smiled, just the opposite was true. He hadn't ruined my night, he'd _made_ my night.

"You didn't ruin my night. Hell, this is the most fun I've had since me and two of the girls made a gin run to town with the lights off." He smiled back and began to get up. Our faces were just inches apart.

"Indy?" I began, looking into his eyes. He pulled me gently to his chest and kissed me. After several moments we were both panting for breath, and I wanted him more than any man I'd ever met.

"Indy," I began again, "I'm a good girl, for the most part… Oh, hell!" I kissed him again, harder this time. I slid my fingers up his chest, and locked my arms around his neck. He responded as well, reaching for the tie on my robe with one hand and tossing his glasses onto my night table with the other.

Spilling out of my robe, my bare breasts touched his skin. Without the robe I was chilled, until he began to touch me. After just minutes, I was on fire, and fanning the flames higher. While he made love to me, I memorized the feel of his skin, his lightly stubbled jaw, his eyes, his sandy hair and how it fell in limp spikes across his forehead. I locked away the feel of his hands on my body, his lips on mine, how he felt moving inside me. Twice I climaxed, moaning into his mouth, running my hands though his sweaty hair. We fell asleep in each other's arms for only a little while. At 5:30, he began to gather his things to sneak out.

Pulling on my robe, I went to the drawer and pulled out the clothing he had dropped in haste last night. Placing them on the desk, I handed each item to him in turn, socks, garters, pants, undershirt, shirt, tie, and shoes. We held each other for a moment before he broke the near silence, "I have to go before that crazy matron catches me."

"You'd better hurry," He crossed to the window and swung out onto the trellis. He descended a few steps, and then leaned in the window to kiss me. I picked up his battered fedora from the desk and placed it on his hastily smoothed hair. Indy looked like a million bucks, just like some dime novel hero. I kissed him again. He began to climb down.

"I think I love you, Indiana Jones." He looked up and smiled. Dropping to the sidewalk, he took one last look at me and winked.

"See you around," he mouthed, tipping his fedora.

A week later he was gone. Graduated and on to graduate school, after that we just lost contact. I finished my teaching certificate that next week. A month later I was married to a man in the Navy and in the family way. I gave birth two weeks before I was due… and everybody commented on how healthy he was. As he grew up, I marveled at how beautiful he was. He would be a lady killer when he grew up.

He'd knock 'em dead with his mysterious grey-green eyes and his sandy hair tousled devil-may-care.


End file.
